


NYC Midnight Entries

by Sysanet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Detective Story, Drama, Multi, Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural - Freeform, Witch - Freeform, crime caper, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-12-22 02:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sysanet/pseuds/Sysanet
Summary: ☾ The following are all flash fictions and short stories written for the NYC Midnight contests. Each story had a genre and some stories elements chosen by the contest hosts which will be listed at the end of each story. Thank you for reading and hopefully enjoying these stories.☾ Nothing here I would consider explicit, but there are some heavy themes in Double Trouble & Pick up the Pieces.☾ Cover by the Wonderful Phox!





	1. Til Pizza do We Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Til Pizza do We Part**  
>  Stressed from a strained relationship and travel, Jessica is given several surprises during her hotel stay. Some she could live without.

* * *

  
            “Sorry for the inconvenience Miss, but we’ve upgraded your room for free,” the auburn haired clerk rattled in a cheerful voice. “You’ll be in the honeymoon suite on floor seven. Too bad you didn’t bring a date, right?”

            “Won’t my boyfriend be disappointed when I tell him?” Jessica produced a smile, hoping the concierge missed the underlying irritation in her voice. The upgrade would have been welcome had it not been attached to a reminder of her strained relationship. She waved the bellhop off when he came near her luggage, but gave him a tip anyway. Jessica always packed lightly and disliked anyone else handling her baggage on these long business trips.

            At the late hour Jessica had arrived, the hotel lobby was practically silent. Destiny had conspired with karma to torment her as the elevator took its sweet, slow time getting to the lobby and an even longer time hauling her up to the seventh floor.

            Jessica rolled her suitcase to the room written on the card. The garlicy smell of her favorite bed time snack wafted through the air. She paused, hand held on the doorknob and glanced down the beige carpeted hallway. Empty. There were no signs of anyone, let alone someone carrying a pizza. _‘I must be imaging things,’_ Jessica thought in a fruitless effort to push the food from her mind.

            The delicious smell of pizza returned in full force once she finished opening the suite door. Yet, there was no pizza to be seen on the coffee table before the bed. No pizza on the dresser or the computer desk provided by the hotel. Jessica’s gaze even examined the spa bath and closets as she made her way through the room. Confused and more than a little hungry, Jessica checked the fridge for signs of a complimentary pizza, but could not find any evidence one had existed.  

            “Now this is just getting irritating,” Jessica complained as she slammed the refrigerator door closed.

            “If you break that, they’ll make you pay for it.”

            Her heart skipped a beat as Jessica swung in the direction of the voice, barely stopping herself before she gave her boyfriend a reminder of why he shouldn’t sneak up on her when she was supposed to be traveling alone.

            “Luke, what are you doing here?” Jessica managed to ask once she had caught her breath.

            “Sorry, hun,” he apologized with a guilty smile. “I wanted to surprise you. I know things have been shaky since your promotion. Peace offering? I just wanted to see you.” Luke held up a familiar cardboard box. Once he lifted the top, the scent of heaven once again filled the room. Jessica looked up into his sincere blue eyes and saw the truth in his words.

            “It’s not the most romantic of meals, but it is my favorite,” Jessica relented with a smile. “Did you really come all this way to spend a night together?”

            “You’re worth it. What we have is worth it,” he said, barely above a whisper. “So, slice?”

            “Yes, I’m starving thanks to you,” she teased him before grabbing a piece of pizza and unceremoniously shoving it into her mouth.

            “You are the picture of grace,” he teased her back and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Eat as much as you want, I’m going to splash my face. It was a long drive.”

            Jessica kissed his cheek and started unpacking while she ate her pizza. Glancing at the pajamas she had packed, Jessica wished she had thought to pack something a little sexier for her to wear. Luke probably wouldn’t mind, but she felt a little guilty. Her sweet, wonderful boyfriend had driven hours to meet her at a hotel just so they could have some time together. And there she would be in sweater pants and a big t-shirt.

            Deciding the big t-shirt by itself could be sexy, or at least convincing herself it could be, Jessica changed into it and took another piece of pizza from the box. A sparkle from the box got her attention. Pizza wasn’t supposed to sparkle. She leaned forward and shifted the pieces of pizza around. Between two of the pieces lay a modestly size diamond ring with two little rubies set on either side of it.

            Heart racing, Jessica quickly shut the box and wondered if her ‘free upgrade’ had really been free at all. _‘Okay, Destiny, Karma, maybe I owe you guys an apology,’_ Jessica focused her thoughts on what she would tell Luke. Was she ready to settle down? Were they? Obviously Luke thought they were. _‘What is taking him so long in the bathroom?’_ she thought, suddenly anxious for him to return to her.

            A knock from the hotel room’s door provided a great distraction. Pulling her robe on, Jessica walked over to the door and peered through the peephole. Recognizing the officer from her previous visits in town.

            “Jessica, I have some news.” Amelia hesitated as she entered the suite.

            “Now isn’t the best time,” Jessica said, wondering what would bring her sister to her hotel room in the middle of the night. Of course she didn’t know Luke had come.

            “It’s about Luke,” Amelia started, playing with the edge of her hat, a nervous tick she had. “He was driving out here to see you. There was an accident, his car was hit from the driver’s side. He had this in his pocket. I’m sure he would have wanted you to have it.” Amelia pulled a small black box from her box.

            Icy claws clutched her heart. Opening the black box, she saw the engagement ring. They had to be screwing with her.

            “Luke?” Jessica yelled, sprinting to the bathroom. An empty bathroom. Desperately, she looked around the room for the pizza box. It was gone. The only evidence he had been there was the warm smell of pizza.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Ghost Stories  
>  **Object:**   Pizza  
>  **Location:** Hotel Room
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


	2. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Double Trouble**  
>  When a brother-sister thief team think they’ve hit a large pay out they find an unexpected surprise waiting amongst their stolen goods.

* * *

 

                Waiting was the only part of a heist Jean didn’t thoroughly love.

                Her long time partner and brother Rodney had received a tip about some merchandise being moved to a museum. The inventory list has been pretty standard, new fossils, some historical statues, cheap baubles for the gift shops, but there were also a few pieces of interest to the brother-sister team.

                In honor of some large donation, the museum would also be housing some very large and very rare gems. Through her connections the gems could easily fund their next trip throughout Europe. Jean looked forward to visiting Greece again. The trip gave her something to fantasize about while they waited for the museum’s van to deliver the shipment.

                Finally, the van pulled into the docking bay and the driver got out. Getting out of their stolen car, Jean’s heart sped up. She walked up to the guard shed and didn’t hesitate to shoot the guard with her tranquilizer gun. Rodney’s heavy steps were a comforting sound as she continued on her way to the van’s driver side door.

                Rodney kept watch while his sister went to work. Thankfully, the van was an older model and all it took to turn the engine on was a screwdriver in the ignition.

                “We’re good,” she called to him. Rodney jumped into the passenger seat. Jean put the gas to the floor as the shouting of guards met their ears. Rodney pulled out his tranquilizer and started returning fire. Though both siblings had no qualms using live ammunition, they had discovered the less dead bodies left behind the less time the police spent looking for them.

                Despite the adrenaline rushing through her body, Jean remained calm. They never had a heist go sour and Rodney had always watched her back. With that in mind, she didn’t hesitate to follow her brother’s directions. The cops hadn’t been able to keep up through the traffic and the back roads the siblings took.

                Soon she was able to pull into a concrete plant, long closed down from poor business decisions.

                “What time is Jerry meeting us here?” Jean asked her brother, eager to meet with their contact and unload the jewelry. It would be a few weeks before they saw the profit from the auction, but the finder’s fee would ensure them a fine lobster dinner.

                “Few hours still,” Rodney replied, exiting the van. “Hate factories like this. They feel so depressing.”

                “You picked the meeting place,” Jean retorted. Taking a cigarette from her pack, she barely had it to her lips when he brother’s yell startled her.

                “We have a problem.” Although Rodney tried to sound calm, Jean clearly heard the quiver in his voice.

                Lighting her cigarette, Jean left the van and met her brother in front of the open back. Amongst the boxes of cheap baubles and large crates she assumed housed some dinosaur bones, were living, breathing, adults. There were three of them, two men and a woman. One of the men looked like he was probably the other two’s son. Terror was spread across every one of their sickeningly sunken faces. Chains were around their wrists and ankles.

                “They weren’t on the manifesto,” Jean mused to her brother, earning an annoyed glance from him. Alright, she had to be more serious about the situation. “Looks like we interrupted somebody’s business. What should we do about them? Can’t exactly send them back and say, ‘Sorry, just wanted the jewels.’ And Jerry doesn’t deal in human trafficking.” Not that Jean wanted to either, but they didn’t have many options available to them.

                “Do you speak English?” Rodney called to them as if they were deaf. Sometimes her brother’s ignorance amazed Jean.

                The small group in the van shook their heads, but they had at least understood enough to answer. Jean pulled the gun from her side holster.

                “Rod, you know what we should do. They’ve seen us. We can’t afford to just let them go.” Jean didn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to risk her and her brother’s lives for three strangers. “Besides, it could be better than whatever fate awaited the saps before we took them.”

                “Fine, but not in the van,” he replied, pulling out his own gun. The slaves immediately began to panic and plead for their lives.

                “Please, we won’t tell anyone,” the younger man pleaded. “Let us live and we’ll never tell, we swear.”

                Jean exchanged an uncertain look with Rodney. She sighed, switching back to her other gun and quickly shooting their three ‘guests’.

                “You’re going soft,” her brother warned her. “I doubt they’d keep their mouths shut if interrogated.”

                “You said not to shoot them in the van,” she said, moving to drag the bodies out. “Let’s move them to that mixer.”

                Following her trail of thought, Rodney helped Jean. The bodies were heavy, but not unmanageable. Once all three were beside the mixer, she pulled her gun out for the last time and attached a silencer. ‘Sorry.’ Jean took three shots, one in each of their heads. Painless and over before they would know any different.

                “I’ll stick em in here,” Rodney said, patting the mixer. “You go look through the crates.”

                Jean nodded to her brother. Walking away from him and their ‘problem’ she let the knot in her stomach twist a little more. Most of the time their life was great. High risks, great reward, beaches, relaxation. Other times… maybe they should consider retiring.

                With a heavy sigh, Jean took a crowbar and pried open one of the crates. No jewels, just a large dinosaur skull with sharp teeth. Probably one of the meat eaters.

                “Hey Rodney,” she loudly called to her brother.

                “What?” he grunted, clearly still moving the bodies.

                “That lobster is gonna be great tonight.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Crime Caper  
>  **Object:**   Fossils  
>  **Location:** Museum
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


	3. Pick up the Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Pick Up the Pieces**  
>  Sometimes the life worth living isn’t the one being lived. Accepting the reality of his life will never match the fantasy, Drew decides maybe his life isn’t worth keeping anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning for potential Suicide/Suicidal Triggers**

* * *

 

            Sunlight poured through the useless blinds of an office window in the dermatology waiting room. Drew had tried to convince Dr. Ivy Imawari they needed real curtains, but the good doctor refused to make her waiting room look dreary. Perhaps the light wouldn’t have bothered Drew so much if his hangover didn’t make every sunbeam feel like a laser drilling into his skull.

            Pulling out one of the beer bottles he hid under the desk, Drew quickly chugged his ‘prescribed hangover cure’. He knew he shouldn’t come into the office early to drink. Or really drink at the office in general. Knew he should sit quietly and do his job, enjoy the window view of the park, and smile at all of the patients as they signed in, but giving a damn was becoming a daily battle.

            When he landed the secretary job two years ago, Drew had felt ecstatic. Sure, the job wasn’t exactly glamorous and he had become the butt of more than his fair share of sexist jokes… but she had made it all worth it.

            Dr. Ivy had been the idol of Drew’s dreams ever since they shared a math class in middle school. Twitter and facebook had made following her school and career progress easy. Like her other friends and family, he had filled with pride at her every accomplishment and constantly commented his congratulations every step, every post. Ivy always thanked him with a smiley emoji, reaffirming they had a connection.

            In the two years he worked for her, their relationship had escalated from simple social media niceties to actual face to face friendship. Her bright smile quickened his heart and filled his otherwise dull life with joy. Though they never dated, he was there for her, waiting on the sidelines as she dated loser after loser. Drew was confident one day she would wake up and realize he was the one for her. After all, he made her laugh. That’s what women wanted in a guy, wasn’t it?

            Her latest boyfriend-Alan-had made Drew anxious. That guy was trouble and would have broken Ivy’s heart worse than the others, Drew told himself. No longer would he sit idly by while Ivy hurt herself. Drew would finally confess to her after Alan was gone.

            But, like a nightmare, Ivy had come into the office a few weeks ago with a gaudy diamond ring around her finger. Searing pain ripped through Drew’s chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Salt to the wound, Ivy had noticed his discomfort though he tried to hide it. She sent him home for the day, believing his lie about bad sushi. Drew barely remembered being sober since.

            Once he had polished off two more beers, Drew hid the case and placed his coat over it. The buzz had cured his unpleasant hangover and returned the laser beams to a gentle warm glow across his face. Drew stood up and opened the blinds with the full intention to enjoy the park view. When a familiar tight raven-haired bun caught his attention, his smile turned to a frown. There Ivy walked, on her way to the office, her arm wrapped intimately around _his._

            The way she smiled at Alan crushed the fragile heart in Drew’s chest. Drew wanted to hate her. He wanted to be like other guys and complain about how he had wasted his time being nice to her. Why couldn’t he just call her a stupid whore and quit his job like his chatroom friends told him to? Pressing his forehead to the window, Drew sighed.

            Despite what the others told him, he knew it wasn’t her fault. Drew had hated Alan because he made Ivy happy. Because deep down, Drew knew he would lose her to the soft spoken man. For a brief moment, Drew imagined diving out of the window and flying over the park… then he remembered he couldn’t fly. Unless he were dead. Being dead had a certain appeal to it. No more pain, no more self-medicating.

            Realizing what he had been considering, Drew snapped himself out of it. He wasn’t drunk enough to do it, but maybe after a few more beers… no. As ridiculous as the thought sounded to him, if he died, Ivy would be sad. She might even blame herself. Maybe Drew wasn’t meant to make Ivy happy, but he sure as Hell wasn’t going to make her sad either. But it would be too painful to stay.

            Turning back to the desk, Drew grabbed the memopad. His note to Ivy was short and simple. He wished her a long and happy marriage, apologized for leaving the office so suddenly, and said not to worry about his check with a tease about his inheritance.

            Grabbing the rest of his beer, Drew locked the office and ducked out the back to avoid meeting her. Her morning appointments would arrive soon, but it wouldn’t hurt them to wait for someone else to arrive. They weren’t his problem anymore.

            Drew usually avoided the park since Ivy and Alan walked by it every morning, but he cut through it for the first time in months. The bus station was just opening, people crowding around to check in their tickets, pick up friends and family. Enough people bustled around for Drew to become invisible. Nobody noticed him throw out his beer and nobody paid much attention as he bought his ticket and took his seat.

            No one commented as he pressed his forehead to his bus seat, shoulders slowly heaving up and down as he said good-bye to his life. If his life wasn’t worth living without Ivy Imawari, then he’d just have to find a new life. Somewhere far away from the streets they grew up on. Miles away from the shattered remnants of his heart, each piece falling with every mile marker he focused on.

            Maybe one day he could come back and glue the pieces together again. One day far away.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Drama  
>  **Object:**   Glass Bottle  
>  **Location:** Dentist Office
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


	4. Going Soft, Going Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Going Soft, Going Strong**  
>  When Jamie finds a surprise blocking his coffee beans, he has to decide between hardening his heart and having the strength to go soft.

* * *

 

            Every time. Every time the coffee ran out, Jamie was blamed. Like he didn’t have enough on his mind between payoffs and gun runs to worry about. How was it his job to buy the coffee? Shouldn’t they have lackeys for that?

            Deciding there was no sense in grumbling about it, Jamie walked into his usual convenience store. It was a quaint mom and pop shop nothing fancy and rarely crowded. True to his assumption, there were only a few customers browsing the aisles.

            Going directly to the coffee aisle, Jamie started filling his basket with a variety of coffee. Of course his boss’s coffee had to be on the bottom shelf. Jamie leaned over to search for it and where there should have been cans of coffee blends hid a girl in a hoodie and fishnets.

            “You’re not Folgers,” he stated dryly. “Why are you down there?”

            “I’m trying to hide from the men outside,” she whispered nervously. “I don’t want to go with them. Please don’t tell them I’m down here.”

            Jamie stood up and casually glanced towards the store front. There were several men and a woman looking around the streets. Squatting down to see the girl again, he asked, “Where are they taking you?”

            “I don’t know. Can you help me get away from them?” she pleaded.

            “I do need you out of that shelf,” he reasoned to her. On one hand, she could have been lying. On the other, she could have been in serious trouble. “You’re in luck. Go to the bathroom, there’s a window. If you can get out into the alley, I’ll get a car there.” Jamie decided he’d rather help a runaway than ignore a kid in need.

            “Thank you,” she whispered eagerly and crawled out of the shelf. The girl practically ran out of the aisle, her blue ponytail bouncing after her.

            Jamie calmly went to the checkout line and purchased his mountain of coffee. Since he hadn’t driven to the store, he needed to procure a car. As he casually walked out of the store, one of the men he’d seen looking passed by him and started searching the store.

            Hoping the man wouldn’t ask an employee to check the bathroom, Jamie quickly found an ugly green Altima. Making quick work of the lock, he loaded the coffee into the backseat and took a few more minutes hotwiring it.

            Maybe his boss was right about him going soft in negotiations, but he wasn’t losing his touch. Jamie turned into the side road leading to the alley behind the store. There girl leaned against the wall, her black shorts barely longer than the oversized hoodie she wore.

            Her face brightened up when Jamie stopped and motioned for her to get in the car. Once she was in, he hit the road and headed in a random direction.

            “Where am I taking you?” he asked once there was a safe amount of distance between them and the store.

            “Anywhere that’s not the police,” she answered and relaxed against her seat.

            “Vague and specific. Why not the police?” Jamie didn’t mind avoiding the police, but that wasn’t exactly something a teen looking for help should say.

            “I’m not going back,” she stated quietly.

            “Back where?” Jamie was getting tired of vague half answers. When she didn’t answer, he sighed and turned the car around. “Either you start talking or I’m taking you back.”

            “My foster house, okay? The couple’s weird and collects girl or something,” she explained so rapidly he barely caught what she was saying. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, but I can’t go back there. Do you know what it’s like living with eleven other girls?”

            “Can’t say I do,” he agreed with her. “Name?”

            “Lita. Want my age and location, too?” Her tone was sarcastic, but quickly turned concerned. “You don’t, right? I didn’t hop into a car with a perv did I? Shit…”

            “Should have thought of that before you asked for help,” he sassed with a smile. Lita didn’t act like a kid, but he was afraid of her reaction if he asked for her age. “Jamie. You didn’t ask, but that’s what you can call me. Truth is I don’t know what to do with you. I can’t leave you on a corner.”

            Their conversation was interrupted when his phone went off. Answering it brought immediate regret.

            “I send you for coffee and you pick up a car and a girl,” his partner Arnold reamed in his ear.

            “I got the coffee,” Jamie responded calmly. “Are you stalking me? It’s not very flattering.”

            “The girl in your car happens to be the daughter of the Briarwoods,” Arnold informed him tensely. “One of their men recognized you driving away from a store near where she went missing.”

            “I heard they have like twelve daughters already. Are they really going to notice one missing?” Jamie wasn’t afraid of the Briarwoods and neither was their boss. He didn’t understand where Arnold’s fear was coming from. “Still doesn’t tell me why you care or how you know. You a snitch for the enemy, Arnold?”

            “I’d be careful if I was you, Jamie.” The line went silent and Jamie put his phone in his pocket.

            “Briarwoods, huh? They’ll probably have the cops looking for me. Hungry? We should hide out for a while. Kidnapping is not a charge I want on my impressive resume,” Jamie said with a smile to Lita.

            “Who are you?” Lita asked suspiciously.

            “A good citizen,” Jamie lied. He drove her to a chop shop near his boss’s house and they dumped the car. “Hold the coffee, stay close, and keep your mouth shut.”

            Thankfully, Lita followed his instructions all the way to his boss’s office.

            “Yo, boss,” Jamie called through the closed door. “Got a minute?”

            The door was opened by one of the personal guards of Alexandra Giles. The guard stepped aside to reveal the calm leader Jamie had come to respect. Alexandra leaned back in her chair and motioned towards her coffee bar.

            Jamie took one of the bags of coffee and started making a pot for his boss.

            “Who’s the girl?” Alexandra asked without a hint of curiosity in her voice.

            “Funny story—“

            “Your funny stories are never funny,” she quipped.

            “She came with the coffee. Found her on the bottom shelf,” he explained.

            “Seriously?” Alexandra’s disbelief was evident.

            “Yes, I really found her on the coffee shelf. She’s one of the Briarwood’s new kids,” he explained. “You know how they like to take in foster kids.”

            “And you brought her here because…?” Alexandra made a rolling motion with her hand. The woman had no patience for a proper lead up.

            “She’s mine now,” Jamie stated to the surprise of his boss and the girl. He carried a fresh cup of coffee over to Alexandra. “Or at least I’m thinking about it. I love pissing people off. Look, I never having had parents so I don’t see how I could suck at being one. That would mean I need a lot more vacation days.”

            “Your paternal instinct kick in because they throw their fosters into their sex trade?” Alexandra’s tone wasn’t exactly sympathetic, but Jamie knew she had a personal grudge against the Briarwood’s habit of sex trafficking kids. Jamie gave her a noncommittal shrug and tucked his hands into his pockets.

            “You agree to this?” Alexandra looked over to Lita, a sure sign Jamie was going to get full clearance.

            “Maybe?” Lita said, gripping the grocery bag. “But they’d never let me be transferred from their home.”

            “That’s why I’m kidnapping you,” Jamie proclaimed with a smile. “Which is also why I need that vacation. Also, I think Arnold is working for the Briarwoods. You should look into that.”

            Alexandra’s eyes narrowed as she processed the possibility. “Take the girl and go. You have a month.” She picked her phone up and began dialing.

            “Quickly,” Jamie commanded as he ushered Lita from the room.

            “Were you serious about being my dad?” Lita squeaked, not sounding very thrilled with the prospect.

            “Not if you paid me,” he admitted. “But using my boss’s resources makes getting you out of country a lot easier. Let’s go.”

            “Why are you helping me?” she asked as he led her back downstairs.

            “I don’t have a good reason not to,” he answered nonchalantly. Jamie could think of reasons not to help her, but none of them sounded like more than an excuse. He hated excuses.

            “You’re a weird guy,” Lita retorted as she grabbed his arm. “Where to now, Dad?”

            “Funny. We’re getting a car and grabbing food. Even if you’re not hungry, I am,” he reasoned. “Are you hungry?”

            “I could eat. Are we getting lobster?” The hopeful tone in her voice was almost cute.

            “You might have a career as a comedian,” Jamie teased. “We’re getting burgers on our way out of state. Ever been to Louisiana? That’s where we’re going to catch a boat out of the country.”

            “No, but anywhere sounds good to me,” she practically cooed. “How are we getting there?”

            “Stop asking questions and just enjoy the journey,” Jamie retorted.

            Lita didn’t say anything else as Jamie led her through his boss’s mansion and down to the garage. One of the many guards handed him a set of keys and pointed to one of the dirtier looking cars.

            “We’re going in that?” Lita asked incredulously. “The car you stole earlier looked better.”

            “I’m offended you think I stole it,” Jamie said with fake offense in his tone. “You really shouldn’t judge thing’s outsides and all that.”

            Not at all fooled by Jamie’s façade, Lita went to the passenger side door. Jamie opened the driver’s side and sat on the soft leather lining. Despite the dirty exterior, the inside had high quality lining, a rather expensive stereo, a built in GPS, and more importantly, working cup holders.

            “Whoa. Why doesn’t anyone take it to the car wash?” Lita demanded, taking in the full interior.

            “People are less likely to steal a shitty looking car,” Jamie explained and turned the ignition. He drove towards the closest burger joint and ordered large combos in the hopes the drinks would last a while. Passing the bags of food to Lita, her appearance brought a mental to-do list to the forefront of his mind.

            “You need new clothes. New hair wouldn’t hurt. I should probably get different clothes too,” Jamie informed Lita before he began chowing down on a burger he pulled from the food bag.

            “What’s wrong with how I look?” she shot defensively.

            “It’s too noticeable. We want to keep a low profile,” he explained patiently. “The first thing us kidnappers do is cut our victims hair.”

            “Thought you said kidnapping wasn’t on your resume,” she grumbled at him.

            “I should really update that,” he mused and pulled into another small department store. “Wait here.” Finishing his burger, Jamie got out of the car and headed into the store. He wasn’t even in the clothes section before he felt a hand grab his arm. Reflexively, he pulled the unknown assailant towards him, barely stopping the flip when he saw blue hair.

            “What are you doing?” he demanded, letting go of her.

            “Getting hair dye,” she retorted with a grimace. Rubbing her arm, she muttered, “Careful, Dad. People might think you’re abusive.”

            Taking in a deep breath, Jamie released a long, slow sigh. “Fine. Pick your color and two outfits. I’ll meet you at the counter in ten.” He watched her walk off and rubbed the back of his neck. Chuckling, Jamie let himself smile. If he was going soft, might as well be for a kid with spunk.

            After he grabbed a few shirts and some bleach for his hair, Jamie met Lita at the store counter.

            “Go wait in the car,” he instructed her. The defiant look on Lita’s face faded as Jamie held his ground. Once Lita was out of the store, Jamie turned a charming smile towards the cashier, a portly man with a mustache and cropped brown hair. He looked extremely confused by Jamie’s smile.

            “I’ll cut to the chase. My boss, Alexandra Giles protects you guys, right?” Jamie began his negotiations. “See, I’m running a personal errand for her and really need this stuff free of charge. You understand, right?”

            “Yeah right. You’re not the man she sends to collect payments,” the guy shot back. “And if you don’t pay or get out of here, I’ll call one of those men.”

            “Who does this route,” Jamie mused to himself. Pulling his phone out, he scrolled through the contacts. “Jerome, right?” He held up his phone to show his co-workers picture. “Feel free to call him with my phone. I’m sure he’ll love being bothered for some menial bullshit.”

            Staring at the phone, the cashier’s expression changed from suspicious to annoyed.

            “I pay my dues. Giving things away wasn’t part of the deal,” he complained, but bagged Jamie’s ‘supplies’. “This better not become habit.”

            “Yeah, yeah. Won’t come here again,” Jamie promised and grabbed his bags. He went back to the car and tossed the bags in the back seat.

            Instead of the questions Jamie expected to hear, Lita turned the radio up and reclined in her seat. Curious girl. Once again Jamie wondered about her past, but didn’t ask.

            Jamie didn’t stop driving until they were well out of town. When they were settled into a cheap hotel room courtesy of some family connections, Jamie started the process of bleaching his hair in the room while Lita took the bathroom. There wasn’t much to cut, but he figured black to blond was a large enough difference to throw most people off. If Lita had to change her look, Jamie felt he had to as well.

            “Hey, how’s your hair coming along?” Jamie yelled towards the bathroom after the silence started to bother him.

            Instead of the fishnet and hoodie look, Lita walked out in denim shorts and a band t-shirt. Her long light blue hair was short and black.

            “Good I guess,” she responded uncertainly. “I want to go to Paris for this.”

            “You think you can make demands now?” he teased her.

            “Why not?” she asked, plopping down on her bed. “She said we had a month.”

            “Guess France is as good a place as any,” Jamie muttered and made his way to the shower. “Get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

            Once he was freshly rinsed and mostly dry, Jamie went back to his bed. Looking over at the sleeping kid, he let himself frown. Hopefully he could help her avoid a fate he had fought tooth and nail to crawl out of. Turning out the light, he laid down to rest for the journey to come.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Crime Caper  
>  **Subject:**  Running out of a supply of something  
>  **Character:** Orphan
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


	5. Laid to Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Laid to Rest**  
>  A paranormal investigator takes her apprentice on what she believes to be a routine haunting case.

* * *

     Creaky floorboards, doors that opened and closed by themselves, objects not where they were left, and the dull letter went on. Another concerned relative afraid their loved one had purchased a haunted house with a sordid past.

     Joline sighed and tossed the letter onto her desk. Opening a fresh tab, she quickly typed the address into her search bar to begin researching the house’s history. Despite most haunted house cases turning up bogus, she couldn’t just ignore them. Especially when the client offers to pay well above her standard asking price.

     “Crowsfeather Manor,” Joline muttered to herself. “It’s certainly clichéd enough to be a legit case.” She leaned back in her leather chair while she scrolled through articles of the home’s history.

     At first, nothing stood out. The house was built in an era where big money meant estates that would soon be ruined or sold by the next generation. Crowsfeather was no exception. Soon after the original owner passed, his son sold the manor.

     Sitting back up, Joline focused on the following paragraphs. As part of the sale, the new owners weren’t allowed to move in immediately. A few weeks after the sale, they moved in, but not for long. Seemed the oldest child was the only survivor of a brutal robbery.

     A quick search for the robbery produced more than enough articles to provide Joline with a starting point. Keys in one hand, her phone in the other, Joline typed the address into her maps app.

     “Hey, Danny,” she yelled as she walked passed her partner’s office. “We have a lead.”

     “On what?” he yelled back.

     “Don’t know yet.” Joline went to his car to wait in the passenger seat. Looked like they had a long drive to Crowsfeather. Joline considered looking for the surviving kid, but dismissed the thought. No need bringing up past pain when she had less harmful methods of investigation.

     “What sob story did you read this time?” Danny teased when he joined her in the car. He seriously asked, “Get a vibe yet?”

     “No, but I don’t usually get them from an internet search,” Joline replied as she set her phone in the mount and double checked the map app. “Ever heard of Crowsfeather?”

     “Not extensively, but I know it was renovated last year and was a pain in the ass to sell,” Danny grumbled and pulled out of their small parking lot. “Guessing someone bought it. Whenever you take me to creepy places like that, I end up broken.”

     “Comes with the territory, I’m afraid,” she replied and let herself sink into the passenger seat. “You could go back to building houses. I’d miss your real estate connections.”

     “Is that all you’d miss?” he teased her. “I can’t go back now. Seen too much, plus my teacher would go crazy without me.”

     “Probably. Stop somewhere to get food. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

     They let a comfortable silence settle between them as they headed to another day in the field.

 

* * *

 

     Iron gates guarded the borders of Crowsfeather. Joline instructed Danny to park across the street on the otherwise empty road. They exited the car and cautiously approached the locked gates. Thankfully, part of the manor’s renovations had included a callbox in the gate.

     As she pressed the button beneath the speaker, tingles spread from the tip of Joline’s finger to her core. Yanking her finger away, Joline took another hard look at the iron gates. There were many reasons iron was used to make gates, one of which was to ward against evil or keep monsters out. The manor’s gates looked strangely new.

     “Hello?” a timid voice came from the speaker.

     “Hi, we’re here to investigate the weirdness going on,” Danny responded, pressing the button so Joline didn’t have to. She appreciated his initiative. Letting go of the button, he turned to Joline and asked, “Bad vibe?”

     “Little bit,” Joline said and put her hands in her pocket.

     “Come in,” the voice spoke out again. The gates swung open, revealing a stone pathway winding through an overgrown lawn.

     The second her foot stepped through the gate, a rock plummeted in Joline’s stomach. Pushing forward, Joline fought the instinct to run from the looming dread threatening to envelop her. The comforting touch Danny’s hand on her shoulder helped steady her racing heartbeat.

     “How bad is it?” he whispered to her.

     “The last time I felt anything like this _I_ was an apprentice,” she whispered cautiously. “There’s a lot of dead here. Question is, why did I feel it in here and not out there?”

     Hastening their pace, the pair reached the manor’s front wrap around porch in time to see someone turn the corner.

     “Hello?” Joline called, intending to follow the individual.

     Before she could get more than a few steps, the front door cracked open.

     “Are you the ghost busters?” a familiar timid voice asked. A young man, barely in his early twenties peaked his head out.

     “Paranormal investigators,” Joline politely corrected. “Did you write to us?”

     “I did,” he admitted and pushed well-groomed blond hair behind his ear. “When can you get rid of the ghosts?”

     “Slow down, kid,” Danny, who was barely older than the other boy looked, said with a smile. “Joline is a highly trained Paranormal Investigator, not a dime a dozen exorcist. If there’s ghosts, we’ll find out why they’re still here and get them to move on.”

     “If she’s the trained witch, why are you here?” The no longer timid boy snarked before dropping back to a timid demeanor when he glanced at Joline. “Sorry, I’ve been here alone for a few days and it’s got me really spooked.”

     Joline nodded, but didn’t say anything. Danny hadn’t called her a witch, nor was it something she advertised on any of their business ads or website.

     “Alone? There who was—“

     “May we start our investigation inside?” Joline interrupted Danny. “Sometimes renovating a house disturbs spirits trapped inside. If we find nothing, we’ll expand to outside. Killian, wasn’t it?”

     The young man looked uncertain, almost confused before seeming to remember something and nodded his head.

     “The letter had my name,” he mused out loud. “You can look around inside.”

     Killian took a step back and opened the door wide enough for Joline and Danny to enter. All the instincts and mystic senses Joline usually relied on suddenly felt muffled.

     “Do you need me here? If not, I’d like to get back to… what I was doing,” Killian said cryptically.

     “No, we prefer to work alone,” Danny answered a little too defensively. Once they could no longer hear Killian’s footsteps, Danny looked to Joline. “You look pale. Is it worse in here?”

     “In a way,” Joline replied. She motioned for Danny to follow her into an adjoining room. “I think there’s a ward on the house. We have another problem.”

     “What?” Danny asked as he looked around the room.

     “The letter wasn’t signed,” Joline whispered as quietly as she could.

     “Then how did you—you made up a name.” Danny began to piece together the scenarios already running through Joline’s mind. Without further comment, Danny stepped through the doorway between the drawing room they were in and the foyer Killian had left them in. Danny came back in and quickly made his way around the modern styled furniture that decorated the old manor.

     Joline watched as Danny ignored the furniture and examined the walls and the two other doorways connected to the drawing room. She followed when he went into a different room, making sure to give Danny plenty of room.

     “Can you do your ‘find dead spirits’ thing over here?” Danny asked. The wall he pointed to didn’t look any newer than most of the house.

     Joline walked over to the wall and placed her faith in Danny. Closing her eyes, Joline reached a hand out until she felt the cool, flat surface of the wall. A shockwave burst into her hand, shooting lightning through her nerves. Screams consumed her hearing, the icy grip of terror clutched her racing heart, cold dirt under her feet. She was coming. If she didn’t leave soon she’d—

     “Hey!”

     Breath racing, silence where there were screams, terror subsiding, feet safely inside sensible shoes, and the wonderful worry stricken face of her apprentice brought Joline back to her reality.

     “Are you back?” Danny’s voice was calm, but his expression was anything but.

     “There’s something behind the wall,” Joline said, sitting up. How long had she been on the floor?

     “I figured,” he replied. Standing up, Danny dusted his hands off. “This room should be wider. The wall is also thinner than the others. Now we know there’s probably bodies there.”

     “More than bodies.” Joline stood up and took a deep breath. Focusing on the wall, she willed it away. Where a wall once stood, was a doorway. Beyond the doorway was a stairwell, leading below the house.

     Silently, the pair made their way down the stone stairwell. Danny turned on his phone’s flashlight app to light their way. As they descended, the air shifted from crispy conditioned to thick, dank air. The stairs met a stone floor, but only for a few feet. Then stone transitioned to dirt.

     A breeze brought the gut wrenching, sour stench of the dead. Pushing onward Joline followed rushed footprints. Their spacing was uneven, sometimes overlapped by a larger, thicker print. As the air grew heavier, the stench thicker, a weight pressed on Joline’s heart.

     The path opened, revealing several tunnels all leading in different directions. Broken bones lay strewn across the dirt paths, some with decaying flesh still attached. Heart beginning to race, Joline turned down the tunnel with the freshest tracks.

     “You shouldn’t be here,” Killian’s voice drifted from the side of their tunnel. Joline turned to see another stairwell behind Killian.

     “This is where our investigation led us,” Joline replied, edging away from Killian. “You did want us to help with your ghosts, didn’t you?”

     “I didn’t write the letter,” he admitted. “I’m not your monster.”

     “Why would I even think that?” Joline asked, shifting closer to Danny. She heard ruffling behind her and hoped it was Danny getting his salt gun ready. Whatever Killian was, salt generally burned the damned.

     “I just want to help my family,” Killian said. “They’re trapped here. The gates were supposed to keep the beast in. But she found the tunnels, now no one’s safe.”

     “You’re the kid who lived,” Danny blurted out. “The one whose family bought this place.”

     A bone chilling howl echoed through the tunnels.

     “She’s here. The asshole who sold my family the place didn’t mention his mother was a monster,” Killian explained. “We should just burn it to the ground.”

     “Who sent the letter?” Joline demanded. “Someone did.”

     “Me,” a throaty voice drew attention to the end of the tunnel. There stood a grotesque beast with patches of fur and splotches of scales. Fang protruded from her misshapen mouth. “I needed to get him out of the house. The little bastard has been hunting me for weeks. I knew he’d have to protect some fake hunters. Now I can finally deal with him.”

      “You’ll have to deal with me instead. Danny, take him and run,” Joline calmly instructed. Trusting Danny would follow her orders, she quickly sent streams of fire at the beast. It howled in pain, rushing her, but Joline pulled up a ward. Trapping the creature in an invisible box, Joline let the flames consume her, waiting until there was nothing left.

     Returning to the manor, she smiled at the two anxious men.

     “See, Danny? Easy case. Now, let’s burn this place to the ground and get dinner.” Joline walked on, setting fires as she past. “That should put your family to rest.”

     As they walked the stone path to the iron gates, Joline felt the weight of the dead lifting with every step.

     “Next case?” Danny asked.

     “Next case.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Mystery  
>  **Character:**  An Architect  
>  **Location:** A Renovated House
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


	6. Moving Forward R1 - SS 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Moving Forward**  
>  Chelsea was anxious to earn her driver's license. When vengeance demands an eye for an eye, she has to think fast and keep moving forward.

 

             To say she had a fluttering in her stomach would have been the understatement of the year. Even though she had practiced driving around the city and on small stretches of highway, Chelsea was still terrified of the test that would upgrade her permit to a license.

            The flutters lessened when her father gently squeezed her shoulder. The teenager looked up to see his confident smile. She returned it with a nervous one, but at least she knew he believed in her.

            “You got this, buttercup,” he calmly reassured her.

            “Yeah, I know,” she replied.

            “Chelsea Williams.”

            The small redhead jumped when the instructor called her name. With a final glance to her father, she hopped up and made her way to the instructor. He was an older gentleman, nothing about him stood out, but for some reason he made her feel uneasy. She convinced herself she was just afraid he’d find all the flaws in her driving to fail her.

            “This way please,” the instructor directed her with a sharp hand gesture. Chelsea found it odd he hadn’t introduced himself.

            _Hopefully he’s not having a bad day._ She thought wishfully. Chelsea tried to ignore the anxiousness turning her stomach flutters into painful twists.

            They walked through the hallways to the parking lot. Chelsea looked around, looking for the car she would be tested with. A smaller car would have been easier for her to drive, but she accepted her fate as they walked to her family van.

            “This is the one?” she asked awkwardly, uncomfortable with the silence that lingered between them.

            “Yup. Hop in,” he told her and quickly went to the passenger side.

            Exhaling, Chelsea mustered her courage and took her place in the driver’s seat. She adjusted her seat, buckled, and checked her mirrors before starting the engine. Running through her mental check list helped, but the looming twists would not go away.

            “Back out and merge into traffic.”

            The short, direct instructions just made her more nervous. Taking another deep breath, she did as he asked. Traffic was light and she was able to change lanes with ease. The instructor didn’t speak beyond the brusque directions her gave her.

            They went on and off the highway, through some old neighborhoods and near the airport where her father worked. She watched the radio tower pass from the corner of her eye and realized how far from the DMV they were. Chelsea glanced at the radio clock. They had been on the road for nearly an hour, but he wasn’t telling her to turn back.

            “Isn’t it getting late?” she asked softly.

            “Keep driving where I tell you,” he spoke sternly.

            “My dad will get worried if we don’t go back soon,” Chelsea tried to press, losing any semblance of comfort she had around the man.

            “I’m counting on it,” he retorted. The man reached inside his coat and pulled a gun out, pointing it in her direction. “Keep driving until I tell you to stop.”

            Chelsea panicked, swerving to the left before she straightened the car back up.

            “Watch it,” he demanded. “You want to get us both killed?”

            “Sorry, sorry,” she repeated, her heart racing as she focused on driving the car. Questions flashed through her mind, overlapping each other. Who was he? Why was he doing this? What did he plan to do to her?

One phrase stuck out. _I’m counting on it._ He wanted her father to know she was missing, but didn’t that defeat the purpose of an abduction?

Her familiar pop ringtone broke the tense silence. The instructor-the abductor answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Chelsea?” her father’s voice asked, tinged with concern.

“She shouldn’t be on her phone during a test,” the man beside Chelsea chastised.

“Sorry, it’s just getting late and I was worried something happen,” her father spoke sincerely. “Are you guys heading back now?”

“Actually, we’re not,” he said, turning his cold gaze to her. “Mr. Williams, do you remember when the planes crashed a few years ago? It happened in November, on your watch.”

“What does that have to do with this?” her father demanded.

“Do you remember?” the man demanded loudly, making Chelsea flinch. She kept focusing on driving, on the road, the other cars, everything she could to avoid glancing down at the gun.

“Yes, I do,” her father admitted, his voice tense. “What does that have to do with Chelsea’s driving test?”

“Do you remember the causalities you caused?”

            “Who are you?” her father demanded.

            “My son was one of the pilots,” the man confessed, hatred dripping from every word. “You gave him clearance. You told him it was _safe._ You’re the reason he crashed into the plane.”

            “I made a mistake,” her father defended weakly. “The radar in the control tower was faulty. The other plane never radioed in. We didn’t-I didn’t- don’t hurt my baby girl.”

            “Are your excuses going to bring Tommy back?” the man demanded. “A parent should never outlive their child. I’m going to make sure you understand that lesson firsthand.”

            “No, you bastard you better not harm a hair on her—”

            “What’re you going to do?” the man taunted. “You’ve already taken my world from me. Now I’ll take yours. Oh, and you should really get someone to look in the janitor’s closet. Wouldn’t want the real instructor to pay for your crimes.”

            “Chelsea, honey, are you there?”

            “Oh no, you don’t get to hear her again,” the man hung the call up before Chelsea could get past the lump in her throat.     “Keep driving,” he commanded, resting the gun in his lap.

            The terrified teen did as instructed, trying her best not to break down into tears. She had to think of something, anything. Chelsea didn’t want to die, she had a lot of life left to live. Unless she kept compliantly following her kidnapper’s orders.

            Wherever he planned to take her was a mystery, but Chelsea recognized the wooded area they were driving through. If they continued, they’d reach the camping grounds. She might stand a chance if she could get a head start…or she could kill herself for him. But if she didn’t try anything soon he was going to kill her.

            Once she had steeled her will, Chelsea waited for the man to look down at his phone. Bracing herself, she sped up and jerked the wheel to the left and slammed on her break. The van slid, it’s passenger side slammed into a sign, the airbags deploying. The air emptied from her lungs, her body ached from the impact. The crushing force of the bag pressed Chelsea against her seat, but she couldn’t let her chance pass by.

Chelsea grabbed the keys from the ignition and punctured the driver’s side bag. Yanking her seatbelt from its clip, she threw her door open and pulled herself out, barely sparing time to gulp in a few quick breaths.

            The teen hit the ground running, sprinting straight into the woods. The radio tower loomed in the distance, a beacon of hope for her survival. She didn’t want to risk being shot while trying to flag down help. Her lungs burned as she pushed herself to keep going, knowing she couldn’t stop or she’d risk him catching up. Chelsea didn’t even know if he was injured or not, but she wasn’t willing to risk her life to find out.

            Fatigue caught up with her before she even neared the airport. Her body shook with the effort to breath, every limb numb from her exertion. She allowed herself a breather and leaned against a tree trunk and hoped the girth would hide her petite frame.

            There weren’t many options open to her. Her phone was back at the van which left her with no way to reach her father until she found the airport. If the man wasn’t severely injured, he might have figured out where she was going and catch up to her. If he was a good marksman, he didn’t _need_ to catch up to her. Just catch _sight_ of her.

            Chelsea dug her hands into the ground and began rubbing dirt over herself and her clothing. She grabbed leaves and pressed them into her hair. Her camouflage wasn’t the best, but it was leagues better than running through the woods in her pastel colored shirt and vibrant red hair.

            With another deep breath, she started towards the tower again. It occurred to her running made a lot of noise and left behind an obvious trail, so she tried to be quiet, sacrificing speed for cover. She avoided heading towards running water, he’d probably go looking there and she knew where she was heading.

            Sunlight became dim as the cool night air blew across her skin, raising goosebumps all over her body. Yet, the tower was close. Chelsea wanted to feel relieved, wanted to start sprinting again, but she knew he was getting close. The owls had stopped hooting, no small animals stirred. They knew a hunter was in the woods, but they didn’t know she was his prey.

            She continued to push through, knowing rest could kill her. Then, finally, the end of the tree line was within sight. Hope welled within her heart, excitement clouded her judgement as she began to rush forward.            

            A deafening bang crushed her hope as a burning pain spread through her shoulder. Chelsea clutched the wound, her teeth gritting together. She refused to give up, refused to die there. The teenager took off into a sprint, taking care to run around trees.

            “You’re already a goner,” he yelled. Another loud bang, the wood of the tree she just ran past splintered. “You might bleed out before you get there. I can’t justify this to you, girl. You’re just a means to an end.”

            “And you’re a son of a bitch,” she yelled back and kept moving forward.

            “So is your father. An eye for an eye,” he retorted. Another bang, another near hit. Chelsea was terrified of leaving the forest. Once she was on the other side of the tree line, she wouldn’t have cover for a long stretch of field. His aim wasn’t that bad.

            “And the whole world goes blind,” she mumbled, knowing her words wouldn’t change anything. _Think_ , Chelsea urged herself. No matter how she went over the scenario in her head, she couldn’t outrun a bullet. Instead, she embraced her fear and stayed by the tree trunk, hunched over, blood soaking her shirt.

            “There you are,” his voice came from far too close, but that’s what she needed. “For what it’s worth, you would have passed that driver’s test.”

            Chelsea shot forward, grabbing his hand and biting down on his knuckle. He didn’t drop the gun, but his grip loosened enough for what she wanted. Agonizing pain spread throughout her shoulder as his hand squeezed down on her wound. She didn’t have time to hurt, she pushed through the pain and held onto his hand.

He fought back, trying to pry her off of his hand, but she knew if she didn’t get the gun to turn it was over for her. With a final grunt, she managed to turn it enough to put a bullet in his shoulder.

            He let go of the gun and backed up, but he wasn’t down. Chelsea picked it up, taking it with her as she started sprinting again. The air control tower remained her guide as she broke through the tree line and kept running. The teen’s pace slowed, her vision fading, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. Somewhere behind her he could still run, still get up and chase after her.

            “You little bitch!” the man yelled from too close. Far too close again. “She was right, I should’ve driven you myself. Smothered you before we left the city limits and dumped your body for the animals to eat. Let your father have remains barely identifiable just like my son. She was right!”

            The soft earth beneath her feet finally switched to hard pavement. She waved her good arm, trying to get the attention of whoever was in the tower, security, anybody. Her body hit the ground, the man’s weight pressing her down. Tears streamed down her face, but she had to survive.

            Letting him roll her over, she lifted the gun, letting what she hoped was the last bullet shoot straight into his chest. His eyes glossed over, his blood mixing with her own as his body fell limply beside her.

            Chelsea shoved him off of her and turned over, throwing up everything in her stomach. The lights from security guards surrounded her, people yelled, someone called for a medic. One of the security guards squatted beside her. She thought she knew him, but couldn’t remember. Everything was fuzzy.

            “This is air traffic control, we have redirected the planes. Who is down there?” the voice from their radio spoke.

            “I think it’s Pete’s kid, Chelsea,” the security officer responded. “Give him a call, will ya? We have an ambulance on the way. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

            “Fuck. Ya, calling him now,” the voice responded.

            “Hey, Chelsea, stay with me. It’s Juan. You remember, right?” he spoke softly. “I got you that lame t-shirt for your birthday. Told your dad you’d leave him if he let you get a license?”

            “I didn’t want to kill him,” Chelsea managed to speak through her fogged mind. “But he was going to.”

            “Hey, kid, you’re fine,” he reassured her. “Just talk to me to stay awake. Don’t worry about that guy.”

            Chelsea nodded, her head spun. She spoke with Juan, short sentences about dumb things she didn’t want to think about. They rushed her to the hospital, her father met them there. Everyone wanted to take her mind off of the events. To have her bury the them away and move past. No one wanted to hear her concerns. They didn’t want her to believe anything the mad sicko had told her when they were alone and she was running for her life. Tried to placate her with assurances the man’s wife was dead and he had no female relatives to speak of.

            But she couldn’t forget the man. Couldn’t get his words out of her mind. The image of a woman telling him to smother a teenage girl. A faceless, cruel monster directing him to suffocate her, to unceremoniously dump her young body in the woods for wild animals to scavenge before anyone could find her. A beast who wanted to hurt Chelsea’s father so much she’s demand such a horrific fate?

            _Who_ was she? _Where_ was she? _When_ would she come for Chelsea?

            She guessed it didn’t really matter. Whoever _that woman_ was had no idea what Chelsea could be.  Next time, she’d know how to fight. Next time, she’d be ready for them.

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **Genre:** Thriller  
>  **Character:**   Air traffic Controller  
>  **Subject:** Someone getting their driver's licence
> 
> Thank you for looking at my short stories, I hope you enjoy what you read. Whether you enjoy it or not, feel free to let me know in the comments. ^.^


End file.
